Reborn

Chapter 3 - The Date

The first thing she registers is the smoke.

Smoke, with its acrid scent that stings at her nose and makes her choke. It engulfs part of the room in thick, cloudy plumes. She takes a few steps back in instinct, surprise and confusion gripping at her. Thankfully, she isn't alone. The shape of a man becomes apparent as it reaches her and stands by her side in a protective manner. Her eyes widen when she sees who it is.

It's Dracula!

But, from the look of it, he himself didn't look to be the danger in this situation. He wore an expression of worry as he looked from her to the bundle she was holding.

She looked down at her arms, surprised to find that the bundle was actually a child - the same child she had seen in the dream-like vision that had crossed her mind when trying to eliminate Dracula under the sea. Something within her told her that it was hers, despite the fact that she didn't look much like her at all, and the paternal concern that was in Dracula's eyes told her that it was his too. She shook her head in shock - a child with Dracula? She took a closer look at the baby's features. It was clear that her father had the upper hand when it came to genetics - the dark, jet black hair stood in wispy tufts atop the girl's head, her eyes glimmering with the same blue irises. All in all, the baby was beautiful. Who knew the Lord of Darkness could bear such an adorable descendant.

But her attention on the baby was drawn away when the reason for the fear became apparent. Aside from the smoke, there was a chorus of angry shouting from outside. A mob had converged outside the building, with dozens of men and women with torches and pitchforks. Several managed to break open the glass windows from downstairs and throw the flame-lit torches inside. The fire began to spread more rapidly, with the flames reaching into the room, burning down the beams from the ceiling and alighting the curtains. Fear began to grip at her more fiercely than ever as the shouts of the angry mob on the outside rose up louder and more aggravated. Dracula seemed to know that there were critical matters at hand as well. There was a certain sense of urgency in his eyes. She looked back up at him as he caressed his cool hand on her cheek.

"Go, hide," he whispered, a hint of urgency present in his tone. He gestured outside the window where the angry mob was. "I'll take care of this."

There was worry in his eyes, but he gave her a reassuring squeeze on the hand. She nodded, trusting him to protect her from the danger, and, slowly, their fingertips gently brushed away from each other.

He took off down the fiery staircase whilst she, clutching the baby in her arms, began to back away from the windows and doing her best to avert any flaming furniture. She could faintly hear Dracula down below attempting to calm the rioting crowd, explaining that he was not a threat. She did not hear the rest, however, when a figure suddenly burst into the room, a sharp wooden stake in hand.

He looked fiercely at her, a furious expression on his face. "Vampire!" He hissed, raising the weapon.

Vampire?

Within a second the figure had reached her and an agonizing pain shot through her chest. She cried out in terror, legs collapsing beneath her as she struggled to breathe. She registered the flames licking ever more closely than ever, saw the figure retreat from the room and felt a warm pool of blood seep through her clothes in dark crimson streams. Frantic footsteps raced up the stairs and a new figure leaned over her - the one of Drac.

She barely caught a glimpse of him through her bleary, fading vision as he kneeled beside her, cradling her body to him as violent sobs seized him.

Then all was silent.

Ericka jolted awake, heart racing, and body trembling. For a moment she couldn't seem to get her breath; she stared at the ceiling above, trying to catch her breath as she remembered where she was. The walls of her room. The clock on the nightstand seemed to click in sync with her beating heart. She turned to look at it. It was eleven thirty. She was expected for a date at precisely midnight, as she had suggested, and she couldn't be late. Swinging herself out of the cot, she stretched her limbs and prepared to do herself up, ignoring the small feeling inside her that hoped he would find her appealing.